


Elven Prayer

by KhadaVengean



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: An Elf praying to Andraste, Angst, Cullen needs some rest, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/M, Inspired by Disney, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Religious Conflict, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhadaVengean/pseuds/KhadaVengean
Summary: Her clan taught her otherwise. She was a child of Mythas, an elf, someone who doesn't pray to a Shemlen Goddess. And yet, for the sake of the man she loves, Ellanna speaks to Andraste.Offers a prayer of a woman in love.(Inspired by "God help the Outcasts" from Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame)
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Kudos: 22





	Elven Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This is my debut in the Dragon Age Fandom, so I'm really excited what my mind can imagine for this great universe.
> 
> I got this thing spontaneously. Just got back into Dragon Age and I really wanted to write something else for a change. The Hunchback of Notre Dame is really close to my heart and "God Help the Outcast" just ambushed me. I don't know which kind of demon overcame me, but I'm happy it did. 
> 
> This is still the raw version. As soon as I get the corrected one by my beta-reader, I will upload it. Until then, please consider that English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. 
> 
> Another note: This is not an intention of me to start any kind of religous discussion. I have my own beliefs about this topic and I respect anyone's opinion and decision. I wrote this to explore another topic. Nothing else. 
> 
> Have fun! Any kind of criticism is appreciated! 
> 
> [God help the Outcasts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MEEpavnk7Uw)

This was an unfitting destination for an elf like her. Her keeper would be furious with her. Ellana was sure of that.

But she did it nonetheless. In the middle of the night, when the moon shone on Skyhold and only the night guard was patrolling their fortress, the inquisitor entered the small room built for those troubled times.

With Corypheus lurking in the shadows, causing havoc all across Thedas, it was maybe one of the few things to keep the people sane.

And so, Ellana Lavellan, looked face to face with Andraste. The candles surrounding the statue were nearly burnt out, the little flames flickering and bringing a remaining warm hue to the stone. The bride of the Maker held up her two hands, offering a peace of mind to her devout followers.

At first, Ellanna stood close to the door. There was nobody here, only her and the woman she was supposed to fight for. She was the herald of Andraste and yet, she didn’t even dare to step close to the statue alone.

But she remembered why she came here and why she probably acted against everything she learned in those few years she lived. She visited a place of _Shemlen_ dedication. She was taught to always stay away from them – they wouldn’t hesitate to cast her out like they did with the rest of their people. 

Ellana sees his smile, his warm eyes, the way he held her. A devout follower of her teachings, a man who fought for this institution named ‘chantry’, something she was taught to observe with suspicion  and wariness, became the most important person in her life. Even after she learned what happened in the circles, the prison of mages, she couldn’t look away. He took her heart as his and she openly fell for it. 

Shemlen- no,  _humans_ were still so confusing for her. 

“I know I’m probably no one you expected to see,” she started to whisper. And everything she said was kept in a silent tone, so that no one would hear her. Ellanna approached her statue, feet standing close together and with her hands on her arms. “Although I fight in your name and your purpose.”

She lowered her chin, her red hair brushing her cheek. “I don’t even know if you can hear me. Or if you’re even there.” She looked at those hands made of stone – holding them high and mighty. Was she speaking to her people? Was it something the humans thought she has done? “I don’t even know if you would listen to an Elven prayer.”

She wore Mythal’s vallaslin. She was dedicated to another. What would her mother think if she saw her like that?

“I know I’m an elf. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to speak to you.” Her voice was filled with something she couldn’t detect. Something unfamiliar, something she wasn’t sure she was allowed to feel. An emotion she had only shown to one other person, someone who has openly asked her about it.

“ _How are you holding up?”_

“But I wish to ask for your help. No matter how small it is.”

She could hear how her keeper screamed at her in the after life. How her parents would cast her a look filled with disappointment. How all her friends would tell her that she was enchanted by a _shemlen_ and betrayed all the things her clan taught her.

She has seen how her love did it. And she repeated it.

An elf, Elanna Lavellan, knelt in front of the statue of Andraste. Her right knee on the floor, her hands clasped together and her head bowed in humbleness. Only her and the statue of the Maker’s bride.

“There is someone who has been fighting in your name for over ten years. Someone who has followed your teachings since forever. One of your most devout followers, who has guided others in your name. He has endured so many horrible things and it haunts him, it follows him. I will try my best to aid him, with everything I have, but sometimes...”

She hears his cries. His screams. His plea to die with his friends, to be killed by the demons. She sees his face drenched in sweat, how he lay right next to her. And that was only during the night.

His trembling hands. The look of pain and grimaces when the headaches became too strong. The feeling of weakness whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, leaning back in his chair and trying to regain his senses.

“Sometimes, I feel so helpless.” Her voice became quieter – she wasn’t even sure if she herself could hear them. “I fight demons and close rifts. Orlais is stable with the help of the Inquisition. Everything I’m doing is to help this world and yet, it feels like there is nothing I can do for the man I love. I just want him to be happy, to be free of the burdens that were put on him. Is that really too much?” 

She felt the pain in her knee and lowered it. Clasping her hands in her lap, she looked on the floor beneath her. The statue of Andraste towered over her petite form.

“I don’t ask for much. I know there is nothing you can do for me. I pray for another god, the mother of my people. And yet, I ask that you help him. Help one of the people that suffered so much, that tried to help so many people in your name and was hurt by those who resent you. Why is he suffering?”

For a second, her voice grew louder. Ellanna shut her mouth, wiped away the budding tears and drew up her shoulders, rolling them back. She lowered her head. “Please. Andraste. If you can hear me, if you can hear  _him,_ help him. Take away his pain or let his suffering’s end be in sight. Cullen deserves so much more than this right now, after everything he was put through. He deserves to be happy, to be free of the pain.”

A follower of Mythas by birth. The herald of Andraste by duty.

A woman of love by choice.

“It is the only thing I want. The only thing I will ask of you. I don’t care what is to come, it doesn’t matter what I have to do. Just please.”

Her forehead touched the floor and her last words turned to sobs.

“Listen to my prayers. Grant me strength.” Hidden in a sob, a broken, "Please". 

* * *

Outside, standing right next to the door of the small room, Mother Giselle shed a lonely tear.


End file.
